John William Barrow died at home on West Chop on the evening of the summer solstice, June 20. He was 81.

John was born on May 4, 1943 in Bayside, Queens, the second of four children born to Robert Addison Barrow and Mildred Jentz Barrow.

For many years, his grace was epitomized on the tennis court. He was admired for his serve and sportsmanship equally. Often the winner, he was an excellent loser. Was his underlying motivation really to get an invite to the after-party where his love of food was gloriously indulged? (Shrimp cocktail on West Chop and around the yacht club, along with those little crab cakes and oysters).

He had been around the world on the ticket of his ace and winning grin. Doors opened at members-only clubs such as The Cumberland (Pimm’s Cup and high tea) and The 7th Regiment (martinis; gin with olives).

For the past 54 years, there was nothing without his wife Harriet. In the beginning, they took their romance to Paris and London. John mostly taught math, but was happy to take on whatever other subjects could be conveyed with a grin and ‘Socratic methods’ at American Schools abroad. In the summers, the couple toured Europe, sometimes following the pro-tennis circuit where John triumphed by day and frolicked by eve. In the summer of 1974, they gallivanted through 13 countries, some behind the iron curtain, in “Calavan” their converted ambulance-cum-camper.

Harriet and John discovered that little Scottsie, officially Scott Murray, born in London, slept just fine in the sink as they enjoyed the cornucopia of local shellfish along the Dalmatian coast. Life was grand until John woke up one morning in London and realized he’d let the Superbowl slip by unnoticed; it was time to Americanize again. John resumed teaching in Queens and Harriet birthed Samantha Knapp, AKA “Mandy” in New York City.

With two tots in tow, Harriet and John moved to Greenwich, where John taught at Brunswick Academy for eight years. From there, they organized ski trips for high school students and enjoyed the French Alps for two weeks each spring. They were joyfully accompanied by Harriet’s sister, Mahala “Polly” Bishop — the kids’ JV mom, and her husband Don who helped “chaperone.”

The family moved to Holden, outside Worcester in 1984 where they spent the bulk of their family-raising years teaching and coaching and growing zucchini, beans and tomatoes. They spent their summers on the Vineyard where John developed an uncanny knack for finding clams at Tashmoo. But to balance this skill, he would say “I think I may feel one over here” leading his wife or children or nephews to the object that just felt like a rock to us so we could come up with the prize. His gullet was miraculously deep as he put them away on shore, shucked fresh and slurped down with lemon, beer and Cape Cod potato chips.

After retiring to the Vineyard, Harriet and John continued to travel during the off-season.

To this day his grandchildren are math whizzes having been taught by their grandpa or “Oompapah” during the pandemic. They love badminton with abandon and bear the mark of his signature enthusiasm: a sense of play and care for others.

Over the last five years, we learned that all that grace showcased by athleticism was really just a warm-up. ALS would strike John in 2019. But as the body diminished, his spirit grew in radiance. A transformation of wisdom unfolded, nurtured through patient practice and diligent play into a presence of expansive grace beyond our imaginings.

As his joy became increasingly vicarious, he watched from his favorite place on the deck beside his soul mate as his children and grandchildren played badminton or hunted for Easter eggs in a madcap scavenger hunt designed by his wife. He was grateful for everything — a book by Patrick O’Brien brought over by the library staff, undivided attention from his beloveds, clams and lobster rolls delivered by dear friends, the songs sung for his birthday, his son’s company watching tennis and the Celtics on TV, the pleasures of good stories and a game of Ruckus or Backgammon with family as we drank his famous sun tea.

He showed us how to live with humor, honesty, integrity, courage and walloping dollops of charm. We are grateful for the (w)hole in our hearts. We feast in your name.

John is survived by his wife Harriet Busselle Barrow, his children Scott (Amy) and Samantha (Daniele); grandchildren Emmett, Rocco “August”, and Ruby; siblings Robert (Gerri), Doug (Diana) and Peggy (Roger); siblings in law: Sam Busselle (Rebecca) and Mahala “Polly” Bishop (Don).

He predeceased his sister-in-law Lucy Myers, and is remembered fondly by a host of nephews and nieces who recall his enthusiasm, curiosity and magnanimous warmth.

The family is extremely grateful for the care, diligence and touching wisdom of Jackie Giordano, The VNA and Hospice, and Jo Anne Briggs. Without their support, we would not have been able to cherish John’s last years as deeply as we did.

The family is planning a private memorial later in July. In lieu of flowers, donations may be made to Island Housing Trust.